Valentine Day is coming.
To dinner we will go.
I promise you no singing,
For you and I both know,
This might be last, in this life,
To dine out as man and wife.
I love you my beautiful one
And will always stay with you,
Until this life is done.
My mind is running away from me.
I think I need a pre frontal lobotomy.
Thoughts that are stuffed in every place,
Wedged in cracks or any empty space.
I need some time. Time to think
Or I may have to turn to drink.